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Thursday, May 14, 2009

A formal complaint about shirts.

It was a beautiful day yesterday and after dealing with my arduous morning duties I climbed the stairs to my study, sat my pert bottom upon my old oak chair and for a brief moment contemplated the quiet house, the peaceful solitude. I planned to indulge myself in some creative writing, perhaps a few emails and maybe even a little surfing on the internet for any new wondrous diet pills that might be available for small, pert bottomed ladies.

Slowly, deliciously, I lifted the lid of my laptop...

And there it was.

A handwritten note.

It was clearly recognisable as the Good Mr T's handwriting.

My heart fluttered, my pulse raced. At long last, after all these years I had finally, finally got a love letter from Mr T. Thoughts of sweet, affectionate, loving words crossed my mind. Words that would make my knees wobble, my lips moist, my body tremble with desire......

And then I read the note.

The note that drew my attention to his lack of shirts.

Yes, that's right readers; it was a formal complaint about his lack of ironed shirts.

I duly closed my laptop and retreated to the kitchen.

Unable to tie the noose sufficiently well and discovering that we don't actually have a gas oven I decided I might as well iron the shirts.

To keep my brain active during this mind numbing task I watched George Clooney in IntolerableCruelty and Jude Law and Clive Owen in Closer. (There were a lot of shirts.) This made the task slightly more bearable. Well George made it a lot more bearable; you know I didn't even know I had a steam iron.

But what I want to know is why oh why do men require so many shirts at once? Are they so petrified about being attacked by an army of invading curries that they need a minimum of ten shirts ironed and hanging ready for battle in the wardrobe? Or do they have a bet on at work to see whose poor, over-worked wife has ironed the most shirts? Yep, I can see it now.....

"My wife ironed 10 yesterday."

" Well my wife ironed 12 and a pair of pants and she used starch spray."

Here's an important question; how many shirts does a man, on average, require in a day??

It's tricky. Think carefully. It could be a trick question.

Okay, that's enough thinking. The answer is...

ONEYes that's right. ONE.

Not two, three, four or five but ONE. Now of course there are exceptions like when a man clumsily tips his cereal over himself at breakfast or chokes on his coffee when he reads his credit card bill but generally he only needs one shirt a day. So why this need for so many shirts? Mr T even has shirts in storage.... Why? Why? Why? Is there going to be a world shirt shortage? Will bankers throw themselves out of skyscrapers and the world economy collapse due to a lack of shirts???

" I can't take anymore of this! "

"Don't do it Mr Intrepid. Don't jump!""I am a broken man. I have no more shirts!""Don't jump. It's not worth it!"(Sobs) "But my shirt is 12 months old and has a curry stain. I can't find another anywhere. My life is falling apart! Oh sweet death I embrace thee.......""Take my blouse!" (Unbuttons blouse and hands to Intrepid) "Please take it!"

" But how can I wear them? (Weeps prolifically) How can I? When I have no matching earrings.... Oh God, what shall I do? I shall be the laughing stock of Wall Street.....(Wails)"Here, take my earrings and my handbag...........You look divine!"

"You thinks so? (Tears momentarily abate.) But I have no tights! How can I go to the board room with no tights? Oh, no, no, no..........."" Here, take my tights. Be careful how you put them on. I said be careful now....You're wobbling! STOP! ......STTTOOPPP....... WATCH OUT.... NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

(Mr Intrepid falls to a certain death; no mention of the tights was made in the obituary. However on the gravestone it read; "Here lies Intrepid. He died a New Man.")

****************************************************So you can see from this sorry tale that men just can't do without their shirts. Just like women can't do without their choccy.

21 comments:

Oh Boy! I started today off just fine. I was actually having fun. Now, I'm a cross dresser who meets a tragic end. All over a shirt. I think I'll wear a wrinkled T-shirt next time..... (Wakes up from very wierd dream)

Ouch! Never leave written evidence. It then becomes something that can be brought out at any such later day to show how "unreasonable" us blokes are.

You'll have long since forgotten about it, thought it but a trifling matter - but when you least expect it, the evidence of this mental cruelty will be brought out to show what a monster you really are.

Next time write on something that must be cleaned, like a mirror or the dust on the coffee table or computer screen. These writing then have a dual purpose. A reminder of ironing duties and housework ;)

Excellent point Roxy; I shall now remove the two pieces of stale manky chewing gum from the offending piece of paper and attached it to my magnetic reminder board to be viewed by Mr T for all time to remind him of what NOT to write.

(By the way - I don't really like gum I'm just on this weight loss challenge and it's stopping me nibbling. Just thought I mention that - don't want you to think I come from Essex.)

Sooooo you're a MCP hey? Hmmm...this is worrying. All these MCPs attracted to my site. (Obviously I'm thinking of Gary here -I reserve judgement on Intrepid - because of the clothes issue.) Perhaps I need to do a further post on this important topic...Hmmmm.....

Women. If only you stuck to the three commandments. Wash, clean and obey.

My old next door neighbour asked me today if i thought women were bad drivers. I said, no, I'm sure there is a decent one amongst them somewhere, I just haven't met her yet. thought you might appreciate that conversation Mrs T, as we all know you are not THE one!

Now Why Miss Hyde am I not surprised that Dr Jekyll has a similar stash of shirts?!And the Good Mr T will also purchase shirts in similar quantities. Hmm.... tis worrying.

Now I must relate a further story to you that occured on Friday. I met a lady from the cricket club of our acquaintenance (Not the delightful Madame M) at Tesco's checkout at which time she blurted out;

"I've just had a call from Mr X to say that he went to work in one of his ordinary shirts. And now that he has been asked to give a presentation he wants me to to drop off one of better shirts by 12pm. "

An impressive tale of woe indeed; it seems that this obsession with shirts is on a global scale.....

Harrison Ford's chest must have a made a big impression on you Miss Hyde because even though I've seen Working Girl (A long, long time ago) I can't remember that scene! (He was good in those tight pants in Star Wars though.)

Mr T only takes spares when he's away - in case of the surprise curry attack - so no chance of anything risque in the office. Well not that I know about. (Unless you include the cream cakes on the birthdays.)

So what you're saying here PB is that you rarely get out of your Australian National Costume?? Hmm.I can see that on your trip here there will be no problem identifying you at the train station.

Naturally, I will be wearing my pinafore, curlers and 50 denier tights. I'll be hard to spot amongst all the other housewives on the platform but I do have a distinct identifiable feature from the rear view; if there's an eclipse you'll know I'm in the vicinity.

I am (literally) breaking off from washing the carpet in my study to answer your comment. You see a woman's work is never done! However, as this is my owm precious room I don't feel quite so bad about it - I'm giving it a revamp in order to make it more amenable.

Yes, well Mr T does have many redeeming qualities - his addiction to housework is not one of them though:) I like the sound of you snorting indignantly - I think I'll try that myself! But knowing my luck I'll just sound like a deranged horse....